


Through the Vines

by rainydayadvocate



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M, Force Ghosts, Gen, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Teenage Poe Dameron, Yavin 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 13:24:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14450178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainydayadvocate/pseuds/rainydayadvocate
Summary: While on a visit to Yavin IV, enjoying the company of his best friend Poe Dameron, Jacen Syndulla hears a voice, loud and clear in his mind. He wants it to be his father, but his mother isn't sure she's ready for what this mysterious voice has to say.





	Through the Vines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Irusu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irusu/gifts).



Jacen enjoyed trips to Yavin IV. Not only was the mostly abandoned Rebel base one of the coolest places to hang out in the galaxy, it was also the only place he could find a decent racing parter. That wasn’t his mom, that is. Racing his mom wasn’t exactly ideal, especially since she didn’t support the idea of sending him to the Pilot’s Academy.

“You’re slacking, Syndulla,” Poe’s squeaky voice came over the comm. Jacen’s voice had dropped quickly almost three years ago, early for a human. Poor Poe had been squeaking for a solid six months. “Last time, we did this run a full minute faster.”

“Not my fault you aren’t keeping the X-wings serviced,” Jacen replied, turning his head to the side just long enough to stick his tongue out in the direction of the other ship’s cockpit. They were flying close enough together that Poe was likely to see it.

He must’ve, because the next sound across the comm was a sigh so dramatic, it must have been accompanied by an eye roll. “Ha. Ha. Now, how about you show me what you’ve been practicing?” Poe hit the X-wing’s thrusters and took off, leaving a trail of exhaust heat in his wake that rippled and rocked the rain forest’s upper canopy.

Two could play that game. Jacen pushed his own throttle forward and his engines thrummed happily at the task. Jacen knew every movement, every adjustment, he could make to his flight pattern, even with the slightest twitch of the X-wing’s yoke. He’d never met a starcraft he didn’t feel connected to, and couldn’t instantly fly. Chewbacca had challenged him once that the _Falcon_ could defeat him, but it wasn’t like Han would ever give him a chance to find out. Then again, Jacen wasn’t even brave enough to ask.

“Ready to try the Canyon race again?” Poe asked, the last three words an octave higher than the rest of the question.

“Sure. I’d love to beat you, thanks for asking.”

“Not what I said.”

“It was implied.” Jacen brought his ship up next to Poe’s again. The Canyon in question was great for flying—until it narrowed. Then it became _amazing_ for flying, and a fantastic racing venue.

A training ground for Rebel pilots during the Galactic Civil War, the canyon was perfect for honing skills. At its widest, it featured steep crags on both sides, an occasional mossy pillar in the middle. It was just enough variety that it prevented the ability to steer in a straight line. The faster you dared to take it, the more interesting the elevation and terrain became. At slow speeds, most spacecraft automatically adjusted for elevation; at high speeds, rises and falls in the river bed, and the occasional natural bridge, took careful calculation to prevent overcorrection.

These were all things both Jacen and Poe knew. These were things they’d practiced dozens of times.

But the bottom half of the canyon was another matter. Though the foliage was still thick, the canyon narrowed to half its original size, and the dangling vines and deep greenery on both sides hid large graphite crystals. In the upper canyon, flying into dangling vines wasn’t dangerous; you would simple come out the other side in one whole piece, half a dozen vines trailing from behind. In the lower canyon, most potential shortcuts through the vines could slice you into scrap.

Poe pushed ahead as they entered the treacherous section of their racing circuit. Jacen rode directly his tail, avoiding the tailwind as much as he could and not wanting his friend to jump too far ahead of him. But, trying to get ahead of Poe was nearly impossible. This was his home, and he did have the advantage. Every time Jacen attempted to swerve above or around the X-wing in front of him, Poe anticipated the move and cut him off.  
“You’re making it awfully difficult to get around you, you know.”

“That is kind of how races work.”

“Ugh.”

Poe laughed. At one of the few wider spots in the lower half of the run, he made sure to take up as much room as he possibly could with an annoyingly perfect controlled roll. By the time Jacen could’ve safely moved around him, the gap was gone. He wasn’t going to do anything stupid enough to relinquish his lead.

_Low to the left._

Jacen frowned, looking at his left. “Huh?”

“Huh?” replied Poe.

“You didn’t say anything, did you?”

“Me? No. Why?”

“I could’ve sworn I—“

_Low, and to the left._

“Jace…?” Poe was dragging his name out, apparently worried. It would have sounded more concerned had Poe’s voice not cracked.

“I’m fine, Dameron. Just keep flying so I can show you how to take back the lead from behind.”

_Drift down, and at this next turn, aim low on the left hand side. It looks solid but it isn’t. Resist the urge to bank, hold steady on the lower left side, and you’ll be fine. And in the lead._

Jacen set his jaw as they rounded the next turn. He could see the bend, but he could also see crystals jutting out of the vines. Big ones. X-wing-slicing, Jacen-killing big ones.

_Jacen, trust me. You can always trust me. Pass through those vines, and you’ll win the race._

Or die, he thought, pessimistically and honestly. Then, as he approached said turn, Jacen found himself agreeing with the voice, wanting to follow the voice—and thinking about how incredible would it be if he could just pass through the vines unhurt. And take the lead.

Half a second later, he’d done just that.

“Shards, Jacen, that was insane!”

“What that was, my friend, was perfect,” Jacen replied, happily finishing their race and not-so-gracefully accepting his win.

* * *

Meals on Yavin IV were always a strange mix of locally sourced food, supplies from the _Ghost_ , and whatever canned rations they found leftover from the Rebellion. Tonight’s meal compilation included an assortment of exotic fruits, canned meat and bread they brought with them, and sweetened condensed milk from the old war supplies. All in all, Jacen had eaten much worse.

His mother wasn’t much attention to him, even though they were the only two people in the entire hangar, eating off a couple of supply crates. Jacen recognized the look his mother adopted on occasion: either she was worried about a new mission (usually from Ryloth) or she was lost in thought about his father. The light twitching in her lekku told him it was likely his father.

“Mom?”

“Hmn?” Her voice was still distant, unfocused.

Jacen hesitated. He waited until his mother’s eyes refocused and she looked at him before clearing his throat. “I think I heard him today. Dad.”

“You do? What makes you say that?” She sat up straighter, her head tilted to the side.

Jacen leaned forward, a lock of green hair falling over his face. He ignored it as he said, “Poe and I were up in the X-wings, like usual.”

“You know I don’t think you’re old enough to fly one, not that I’ve ever been able to stop you.”

“Not even a little bit.” He flashed a smile, pleased to see her smiling back at him. “Anyway, we were farther west on the continent, in the old training canyon. Poe runs it so often on his own I can’t beat him. I was ready to accept my defeat when a voice told me to fly into the lower left of the canyon. It felt right to listen so I did, and sure enough I zipped through vines that hid a gap in the crystal formations. Easily took the lead and beat him.”

His mother smiled, her face lighting up. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t die listening to this voice. I’m also glad you won. Poe needs to be taken down a notch or two sometimes.” Still smiling, she dropped her concentration back to her meal.

Jacen waited, hoping she’d say more. When she didn’t, he tried again. “Do you think it was Dad?”

With a heavy sigh, Hera Syndulla straightened her back and looked across at him, looking every bit the General she was. “I don’t know. Maybe. If it was, he’s rediscovered his sense of adventure. He’d lost it, there near the end.”

“What do you mean?”

“He didn’t think we should be involved with the Rebellion.” She put up her hands to motion to the abandoned base around them. “When we officially joined with the rest of the Alliance, he didn’t think this was our fight, our battle. Everything we did against the Empire in those final months, he questioned.”

Jacen stared across the hangar to a collection of dangling wires, severed during an Imperial raid. “Do you think he was right?”

“No,” she said quickly with a smile. “I think my place was here, even if his wasn’t. But I’ve often wondered if his increased protectiveness and resistance to the Alliance was caused by something else.”

“Like what?”

She faced him, her green eyes fixated on his. “Like you.” She moved to stand behind him. After a quick ruffle of his hair, she rubbed his shoulders. “Your father didn’t know about you before we lost him. But he was perceptive in ways I’ll never fully understand. If he could sense that you would be joining us shortly, I could see why joining the Alliance didn’t seem like the best idea.”

Jacen raised his face and looked up at her. “You’re still not really answering my question. Do you think the voice I heard today was my father?”

Their eyes met. “Maybe. It’s certainly a nice thought.”

It wasn’t the answer Jacen had hoped for. He wanted a connection to his father. He couldn’t imagine who else the voice could be. Why his mother wasn’t willing to just agree with him, he didn’t know. “Right. A nice thought.” Jacen stood as he gave her a side hug. “I should go check on the _Ghost_ , do my system checks and all.” All he got in response was a small nod, so he quickly took his exit. 

* * *

Hera watched Jacen go, sighing as she plopped onto the crate he’d just vacated. Of course she thought it had been Kanan, but he’d been quiet with her for years. Why connect with Jacen but not her?

As if on cue, she felt the sensation of a hand gripping her shoulder, though there was no one there. She smiled at her shoulder and shook her head. “And just where have you been?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“I’ve been gone longer than I expected.”

“Yes, so I’ve noticed.”

“Don’t be angry.”

Hera wanted to look him in the eye, to stare him down, to cry against his shoulder, to yell at him until she lost her voice. She could feel him, just as strongly as if he was still standing beside her, but she couldn’t see him. He had no form. Tempting as an emotional overreaction was, how could she yell at someone she couldn’t look at, or guarantee was even still listening?

“Why did you lie to him?” Kanan asked.

She sighed. “I don’t want him to become dependent on an omniscient voice. That will only make him second guess his piloting and he won’t reach his full potential.”

“He already close.”

“He has room for improvement.”

“Hera, see his skill for what it is—he’s maybe better than you.”

“Hey!” She turned in the direction she thought Kanan might be. Still no sign of him. But she knew he was right. Jacen’s touch on the controls was more subtle than hers. The moment he realized that, though, was the moment she would lose him. “He can’t know how talented he is, not yet. I still need him at home. I can’t do this without him.” _This_ , she realized as she said it, was simply life. Over the last decade since the Empire’s fall, she’d become dependent on Jacen. She didn’t know how to live without him anymore.

“That’s not the Hera I know,” Kanan whispered in her ear, squeezing her shoulder again. “The Hera I know doesn’t need her son’s company, only chooses to keep it. I know you don’t actually need anyone.”

“You only say that because you don’t know me anymore, Kanan.” She turned away from the voice. “You are simply a Force entity. You don’t know me, you’re just a semblance of what you once were.”

“Maybe you don’t know yourself, Hera,” he said quietly. In front of her, seated on the crate opposite her, sat the faintest outline of the man she knew—mercifully with his longer hair. “Find yourself again and don’t hold Jacen back.” What Kanan had done to make himself visible for that moment must’ve overextended him, because he disappeared, and Hera could no longer feel him.

She didn’t think she was lost. Old war generals don’t necessarily have a place in a government’s military; Hera certainly hadn’t, though Leia and Mon Mothma asked her to pilot for diplomatic missions on occasion. She stayed plenty busy helping bring order to Ryloth, to stop the slave trade. Her work was important, and usually fulfilling.

But she had let fear in. Fear of the future, fear of her place in it. Her place with Jacen was easy; it was everywhere else she felt lost. And that was hers to figure out.

Hera walked to the _Ghost_ , finding Jacen performing a check on the exhaust ports. “Making sure we don’t get clogged?”

“Someone has to,” Jacen said through a half smile.

“Finish it up in a minute.” Hera motioned for him to join her on the ramp. “Listen, Jace, we need to talk about school.”

“School?”

“An academy, rather. Like the Pilot’s Academy on Chandrilla.”

Jacen’s eyes lit up, and his hair stood on end. Though he didn’t have lekku like Hera did, his hair had a mind of its own to make up for it. “Are you serious? You’d actually let me go?”

Hera held his gaze as long as she could before looking to her lap. “I won’t like it. I’ll hate it. But we can’t let Poe become a better pilot than you, now can we?”

Jacen pumped his fist and scrambled to sit beside her. “What changed your mind?”

“Not what. Who.”

“Dad? It was Dad today, wasn’t it?”

She nodded. “I haven’t sensed your father in years. But he was here tonight. And he was here this afternoon.”

“Why now, do you think?” Jacen asked, scooting closer to her.

“Honestly?” Hera drew circles in the dirt beneath her boot. “I think he came to make sure I wasn’t hoping you back, making mistakes.”

Jacen’s hair flattened, drooping, as he shook his head. “You’re not making mistakes, Mom. Never think that.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “But letting me go to the Pilot’s Academy is the best decision you’ve made in a very long time.”

She slapped a hand against his thigh and scowled. Jacen matched it with his best grin—a look his father had sported often in his younger days. “On the plus side,” she said, “I’ll see less of you during your dreaded teenage years.”

“Best all around for our relationship, isn’t it?”

“Definitely.”

Jacen paused, chewing on the inside of his lip, clearly considering his next thought. “Mom, are you sure you’ll be okay?”

She smiled warmly and wrapped him in a hug. “Absolutely. I have you, and you don’t have to be in the co-pilot seat to be with me. You need to do this.”

After another thoughtful pause, Jacen joined their hug and pressed tightly into her. A third set of arms enveloped them, and they sat there, a complete family unit, hugging until Kanan’s presence faded.


End file.
